Page 53 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

Ash was the opposite, pure motion. He was half-up from the workbench, hands braced on the edge, knuckles white as bone.

The RGB strips on his PC shifted from blue to blood-red, matching the pulse in his neck.

His scent changed, too, charcoal and vanilla with something sharp underneath.

It was instant. My nerve endings flipped on, every sense on high alert.

He never took his eyes off the monitor, but he was ready to close the gap in a blink if needed.

Malik was the slowest, but when he moved, it was final. He twisted away from his station so the camera couldn’t catch, dropped his voice so low I heard it only because I was listening for it, “Kara, listen. You don’t have to stay. We’ll kill the stream. You want out, just say.”

I wanted to answer, but my tongue was stone. My only response was to stare at the monitor, the chat, now a war zone. The viewers had picked up the mood.

Alpha mode engage

Did you SEE Reid’s face

Protect Queen, she’s in shock

You could bottle the tension in there and sell it as a weapon.

In-game, I was crouched behind cover. In real life, the room was sitting on a hair trigger. You could hear it, even through the headphones, the breathing, barely held in check.

Theo was still typing. “Pack Wrecked runs on respect. You wanna hate, back it up IRL.” Actual growl that time, and chat spammed comments of surprise.

Theo’s gonna eat this guy lmao

Jace was locked in, cold, hungry. If I could feel anything but panic, it would scare me, but it didn’t. Instead, it almost cracked me in half with relief.

Ash’s hand drifted to his toolkit. It wasn’t a threat. It was habit. He rolled his knuckles and then set his palm flat, watching the screen like he was waiting for the go signal.

Malik was still with me, voice like a heartbeat. “You’re not alone. We’re here. Don’t let them see you break.”

But maybe I was breaking. Chat was endless; the insults picked up, now joined by allies. It hit harder, deeper, because they were so calculated, and silence didn’t help. Controller nearly slipped. My vision broke, then locked in again, every pixel so sharp I could barely keep looking.

On stream, Reid’s avatar planted himself by mine, tanking. In the room, Reid stood up so hard his chair fell over, sound loud as a gunshot.

Theo stopped mid-type, his voice hard as obsidian as he spoke, “Quinn isn’t just one of the most skilled players out there, she’s survived more shit than any of you armchair commandos could dream of.”

Malik’s tone was unyielding, cold. “Her medical history is nobody’s entertainment. And it’s not an excuse for harassment.”

Jace didn’t need words. He just shifted closer, shoulder pressing up against mine. On camera, it looked subtle. Under the table, his hand slipped over mine and stayed.

Ash’s rumble carried across the mic, slow and deliberate. “We track IPs here. You want to run your mouth, better hope you can back it up in real life.”

It should have felt safe. They wanted to protect me. But the more they did, the more obvious it was that I was the reason they were like this, the Omega in the midst of five Alphas, the one drawing all the fire.

omega whore probably sleeps with all of them to keep her spot on the team. typical designation slut behavior

Something broke with that one and Reid’s chair hit the wall. I could feel the rip of Alpha rage roll across the table, every nerve ending buzzing with it. “That’s it. Stream’s over.”

But before he could physically end it, Theo was already up and going for the jugular, “You listening, you absolute waste of oxygen?” he spat.

“Quinn’s got more heart, fight, and actual damn talent than you and all your sock puppet accounts combined.

She’s survived garbage this industry throws at her, survived medical hell, survived public crucifixion you’d never last a day in. Crawl back under your rock.”

Malik grabbed his elbow, but even he was running hot, voice flick-knife sharp. “This is discrimination, not just trolling. This is why people like Quinn have to go on suppressants. To survive idiots like you.”

Jace’s grip under the table tightened, nothing showy about it. Just there, present, unwavering. Ash stood up, all six-and-a-half feet of him, looking like he was one tiny excuse away from finding the troll and resolving things the old-fashioned way.

Every Alpha in the room was in full threat-display, pack-bond instincts uncaged. I should have hated it. Instead, I didn’t know. For the first time, I felt… steady. Like there was a net, and I was allowed to fall.

Reid came up behind me, quiet but deadly. Anyone who’d ever seen an Alpha go feral would have recognized the energy radiating off him. I locked eyes with him as he took the arm of my chair, swung it into his space.

The headset half-ripped off, cords tangled around one of the arm rests as the controller hit the floor.

I braced for fury, for the Alpha growl, the pack leader lecture.

But his face was shattered. Not angry, but burning up, barely holding together.

He didn’t even say my name. Just lifted me and pulled me in, right into his lap as he took his place in my chair and held me so tight I couldn’t move. It was no pose. He could have broken me or healed me, and I couldn’t tell which I wanted.

Then he leaned in, mouth to my ear, and the mic picked it up for all of them.

“Touch her and die.”

It should have been a threat. It landed like a promise.

“Quinn is pack,” Theo said quietly but with enough rage behind it that I knew he was on the verge of going feral as well. “She’s ours. And we protect what’s ours.”

If I didn’t trust them so completely, I would have bristled at the possessive. I would have told him I didn’t belong to anyone. But it landed differently after those comments. The pack bonds were settled, and for once I didn’t feel alone.

Reid leaned down, breath warm against my ear. “May I?” The words were just for me, so soft I barely caught them. But I knew what he meant: Let me show them. Let’s make this real.

“Yes,” I whispered, so quiet I wasn’t sure anyone heard.

Reid’s teeth found the bruise he’d left on my shoulder, slow and deliberate. He opened it up, just enough to signal to everyone watching what I was, to him, to the pack. It was a claiming, on stream, in front of fifty-some-thousand people.

The chat went bananas.

DID HE JUST…

WHAT THE FUCK

ALPHA REID JUST WENT FULL FERAL PROTECTIVE ON CAMERA

I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me.

The claiming triggered a reaction in everyone else.

Theo’s knuckles were white on the desk, watching with hunger and approval.

Jace’s breathing sped up. Malik’s composure was gone, all Alpha energy and no filter.

Ash was half out of his chair, eyes locked on the mark.

It was pheromones and instincts and everything I’d been conditioned to hide, all out in the open. The stream was chaos, viewers losing their minds.

“End it,” Reid ordered, voice gone rough and raw.

Ash cut the stream with a single keystroke. All the restraint in the room evaporated.

Reid wrapped both arms around me from behind, strong enough I couldn’t move unless I wanted to break free. “Mine,” he said, words tinged with thunder. “Ours.”

“Ours,” Theo echoed, hand sliding into mine, claiming his space.

Jace waited, looking for my signal. I tugged him closer, and that was all he needed.

Malik and Ash lingered, hesitant but wanting. I looked them both in the eye. “All of you,” I said. “If that’s what you want.”

Ash’s laugh was shaky, a rumble more than a sound. “As if there was ever any question.”

Malik’s restraint finally gave. “We’ve wanted you since you walked in the door like you were ready to fight the world,” he said, echoing Theo’s sentiment from the night before.

“Then take me.”